Barrent had had enough of Omega's shocks and surprises. He stayed close
to his store, worked at his business, and kept alert for trouble. He was
beginning to develop the Omegan look: a narrow, suspicious squint, a
hand always near gun butt, feet ready to sprint. Like the older
inhabitants, he was acquiring a sixth sense for danger.
At night, after the doors and windows were barred and the triplex alarm
system had been set, Barrent would lie on his bed and try to remember
Earth. Probing into the misty recesses of his memory, he found
tantalizing hints and traces, and fragments of pictures. Here was a
great highway curving toward the sun; a fragment of a huge, multi-level
city; a closeup view of a starship's curving hull. But the pictures were
not continuous. They existed for the barest fraction of a second, then
vanished.
On Saturday, Barrent spent the evening with Joe, Danis Foeren, and his
neighbor Tem Rend. Joe's pokra had prospered, and he had been able to
bribe his way to the status of Free Citizen. Foeren was too blunt and
straightforward for that; he had remained at the Residency level. But
Tem Rend promised to take the big forger as an assistant if the
Assassin's Guild accepted his application.
The evening started pleasantly enough; but it ended, as usual, with an
argument about Earth.
"Now look," Joe said, "we all know what Earth is like. It's a complex of
gigantic floating cities. They're built on artificial islands in the
various oceans--"
"No, the cities are on land," Barrent said.
"On water," Joe said. "The people of Earth have returned to the sea.
Everyone has special oxygen adaptors for breathing salt water. The land
areas aren't even used any more. The sea provides everything that--"
"It isn't like that," Barrent said. "I remember huge cities, but they
were all on land."
Foeren said, "You're both wrong. What would Earth want with cities? She
gave them up centuries ago. Earth is a landscaped park now. Everyone has
his own home and several acres of land. All the forests and jungles have
been allowed to grow back. People live _with_ nature instead of trying
to conquer it. Isn't that right, Tem?"
"Almost but not quite," Tem Rend said. "There are still cities, but
they're underground. Tremendous underground factories and production
areas. The rest is like Foeren said."
"There aren't any more factories," Foeren insisted stubbornly. "There's
no need of them. Any goods which a man requires can be produced by
thought-control."
"I'm telling you," Joe said, "I can remember the floating cities! I used
to live in the Nimui sector on the island of Pasiphae."
"You think that proves anything?" Rend asked. "I remember that I worked
on the eighteenth underground level of Nueva Chicaga. My work quota was
twenty days a year. The rest of the time I spent outdoors in the
forests--"
Foeren said, "That's wrong, Tem. There aren't any underground levels. I
can remember distinctly that my father was a Controller, Third Class.
Our family used to trek several hundred miles every year. When we needed
something, my father would _think_ it, and there it'd be. He promised to
teach me how, but I guess he never did."